Harry Potter and the Mirror of Adversities
by kasviel
Summary: SLASH COMPLETE When Draco and Harry find a magic mirror which shows an inverse reality, it shows them in love. Disgusting sight, but why can't they forget it? Find out in this slashy story, my first HP fic ever UPDATED and REVISED [no spelling errors]
1. Prologue

Harry Potter and the Mirror of Adversities  
  
Author's Notes: I have no idea where to fit this fic in, so let's just say it takes place when the boys are 16. Also, this is my first fic from HP, so please bear with me ^^ I usually do anime and manga fics, so this is also my first slash story. At this point, I really have no clue how it will turn out. I guess I'll just take a deep breath and start typing.....3.....2.....1....Begin!  
  
*  
  
Prologue  
  
"Potter!" a jarring but precise voice called out from across the dining hall one snowy December day. Harry Potter felt his blood go cold. He was eating alone that day, since Hermione went home for the holiday and Ron was sick in bed. Almost everyone in the school was gone for holiday, so the room was rather empty. Alas, there was no one to stop Draco Malfoy from coming over to Harry's table. Harry did not even bother to look up, hoping the confrontation would be a brief one. He was not in the mood to see Draco's face this early in the day today.  
  
But Harry did not have to look up to know how smug Draco's handsome face must have looked. He could feel Draco's smirk, even before he sat down beside him at the table. Harry's mouth turned down. Even after five years, Draco remained the same. He was taller now, and older, but still an immature, spoiled snob. And Harry, well, Harry still hated him. He tried to ignore him these days, but it was always hard. Draco was not the sort of person that is easy to pay no mind to.  
  
"So, the star of Gryffindor is all alone today," Draco observed after sitting down on a chair beside Harry's seat. His crystal clear eyes looked Harry up and down with a look of superiority on his porcelain-like face. "Hmph. Did the little redhead eat himself sick again? I can't say I'm surprised..."  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked. He looked at his longtime rival. "What is it?"  
  
Draco lifted a cup. "Relax, Potter, I would never fight during this time of year," he lied. His voice was sincere...a little too sincere. He smiled a falsely friendly smile. "In fact, I want to make peace with you this year...Harry."  
  
Malfoy was calling Harry by his first name and acting friendly, which made Harry worry all the more. There was no holiday that would make Draco Malfoy want to reconcile with Harry, not even Christmas. The only reason that could make Draco pretend to be nice would be that he was planning something evil. Harry's skepticism showed on his face as he looked at Draco.  
  
Draco saw his look and took a breath. "Don't you believe me, Po-I mean, Harry?" he asked, his cheerful tone overshadowed by annoyance. He lifted one of the two glasses he was holding. "Look! Let's have a drink to peace, shall we?"  
  
Harry took the glass. He glanced down at the beverage. Then, he shook his head. "Malfoy...Malfoy...Malfoy..." he muttered, setting the glass down on the table. "Do you know how much I can't stand you?"  
  
Draco's plastered smile fell. He struggled to remain calm, but his fair face reddened with fury. "Wh-whatever do you mean?" he asked innocently. "I'm only trying to share a holiday toast with you."  
  
Harry's green eyes met Draco's. "I will not drink or toast with you," he replied, standing. "Now if you'll excuse me, Malfoy, my appetite seems to have vanished suddenly."  
  
Draco jumped to his feet. "How dare you treat my peace offering with such hostility!" he exclaimed. "I don't care what anyone says, you're the real snob in this school!" Draco lifted the glass and held it out towards Harry. "The least you can do is make a toast with me! Or is that a thing too civil for you?"  
  
Harry put his hand over the top of the glass and pushed it down. His green eyes stared down at Draco, who was no longer taller than him but a half inch or so shorter. "Malfoy," he said, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't try using me as a guinea pig for your Potions' Class homework." Harry briefly glanced down at the glass in Draco's hand. "I don't even want to know what effect you hoped that brew would have on me."  
  
With that, Harry left the shocked Draco to ponder how he had known the substance was a potion. As he left, Harry heard Draco shouting some of his usual threats at him. He paid no mind.  
  
End of Prologue 


	2. Chapter One

Part One  
  
Christmas holiday...  
  
It was a snowy, dark morning that December 20th. Harry awoke in a pleasantly hot room early that morning. It was so early that Ron was still sprawled out on his bed, snoring away. The room was lit with the dimmest of blue morning light, and heated to protect from the bitter cold outside. Harry tried to return to sleep, but began to grow restless and warm. After some minutes of tossing and turning, Harry climbed out of bed, eager to avoid the heat of the thick quilts. He stretched and glanced towards the window. Tiny snowflakes were falling down on the school. Harry put on his glasses and sat in front of his window, gazing out at the falling snow.  
  
It was a funny holiday, Christmas. It made everyone feel so happy inside, and at the same time brought feelings of nostalgia and sadness. Every year it came and went, but no Christmas ever really left your heart. This year, Harry's memories were not as sad as previous years. This year, he thought of the memories he, Ron, and Hermione had shared. He also thought of how his life had changed so much during the past three years. He also wondered...what Christmas memories his parents had shared in the academy...  
  
As the sugary snowflakes kissed the school grounds, Harry's mind turned to the past. He pondered the confusing past, the world his parents had lived in. His father James had had friends and rivals and tests, just as he did now. It was a little strange to think of his parents going through the things he went through, to think of that past world. Harry's gaze blurred a little as his mind wandered.  
  
Then, Harry's eyes focused on something...or rather, someone. He squinted. There was a single student walking through the grounds below. Harry could not make out who it was, but he noticed that they seemed rather hurried. A little curious, Harry debated whether he should follow the person or not. It would most probably lead to trouble, as his curiosity often did, but wasn't he used to it by now?  
  
Harry got dressed in warm clothes and put on his boots. Then, he left the room, hearing Ron's snoring wan as he did. The halls of Hogwarts were empty this early, and dimly lit. Nevertheless, Harry navigated through them with ease. He'd strolled through the halls countless times before, he'd been coming this way for five years now, after all. Therefore, he passed through the school quickly, and was soon outside. It was bitter cold out, and quite shocking after leaving the well-heated school. Harry pulled his scarf closer to his neck, and forced himself to plod into the deep snow. He hurried through the courtyard, then realized that he didn't know where the other student had gone. Then, his attention was caught by a door that was slightly ajar. It was not a door he had noticed before, nor had he gone through it before. But of course, going into unexplored places didn't intimidate Harry much anymore. He clasped the cold doorknob in his hand, turned it, and pushed the door open. It creaked a little, and Harry slowly stepped past it.  
  
Harry stepped onto a cement floor. The hall was dim and dank, and smelled of must. Intrigued, Harry went down the hall. Still, there was no sign of the student. Down the winding, dark hall went Harry, and he finally came to a stairwell. He climbed up the dark stairs, until he reached a room. It was an attic-like place, and reminded Harry of the room where the mirror had been. It was also a bit warmer inside, so Harry opened his cloak a little. He looked around.  
  
The room was large and seemingly empty. Not a thing stirred. A little disappointed, Harry exhaled slightly. He turned to leave, and then a glimmer caught his eye. He moved closer to the wall, and realized that there was a mirror on the wall! He was afraid to look in it, but it was too late. For the scene inside the mirror was beginning to change. Harry stared.  
  
He saw himself sitting in the dining hall, eating. There was nothing unusual about it at all. Then, he heard a voice from inside the mirror.  
  
"Potter!"  
  
Realization dawned on Harry's face. He was watching the scene from lunch the other day, when Draco had tried to get him to drink some kind of potion. As he watched Draco in the mirror sitting beside himself, Harry wondered why the mirror was showing him this. Couldn't he escape Draco's torment for one moment? What was the purpose of this mirror, anyway?  
  
Harry watched the scene in the mirror, trying to notice some flaw in it. But it went on as it had in real life. Soon, Harry watched himself storm off through the cafeteria. Draco was yelling after him. Harry frowned a little, wondering why the scene didn't fade when he left. He watched as Draco slammed the glass down on the table and sat down, looking rather defeated. Harry smiled a little at the sight.  
  
The scene faded, and then returned to the beginning. Harry frowned in confusion. This mirror was strange. He moved closer to it and searched for a name or description. Behind the mirror's glassy surface, the scene went on as before, like a repeating videotape.  
  
"Potter!"  
  
Harry ignored the scene as he looked over the edge of the mirror. Then, something bizarre happened.  
  
In the mirror scene, Draco sat down beside Harry as usual, but his expression was different. Harry backed away from the mirror and watched the scene.  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy?"  
  
Their faces were barely an inch apart, as usual in their confrontations. But there was something different about the closeness this time. Before, it had always felt infuriating and confrontational, but as Harry watched himself and Draco, the closeness seemed intimate. Before Harry could ponder this any further, the scene worsened.  
  
Draco's long, thin fingers slid into Harry's dark black hair. An evil grin spread over his lips, and he moved his face closer, until their lips met.  
  
Harry dropped the lantern he'd been holding. He backed away from the mirror slowly, his face overcome with shock. What...what was this?  
  
The sound of a low sneeze interrupted Harry's thoughts. He whipped around. "Who's there?" he demanded to know. His eyes scanned the room, but he could not see around the dark corners.  
  
There was the sound of shoes scraping against the floor. Then, from behind a dark corner, stepped none other than Draco Malfoy himself. Harry's eyes narrowed. Seeing his rival at this particular moment was not a pleasant experience. Harry crossed his arms. "...Malfoy."  
  
Draco's gaze was cool and cold. However, he sniffed a little. "Potter," he said, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat and spoke more clearly. It was evident that he had a winter cold. "If you're looking for the student that went this way, I can't help you." He frowned a little. "Don't give me that look, it was not me."  
  
"Then what are you doing up here?"  
  
Draco went to reply, but sneezed. He took a breath, but his face was turning red. He seemed to be embarrassed by his cold. "I...I was looking for the same student," he replied. "Someone came up here, but they're gone now." His gaze turned to the mirror and his eyes softened. "Perhaps they were here for that mirror."  
  
Harry turned to the mirror. The image had faded away by now. He exhaled in relief. Then, he wondered if Draco had also looked in it, but was too afraid to ask.  
  
"You saw the same thing I did, didn't you?" Draco asked, as if reading Harry's mind.  
  
Harry shut his eyes. So, Draco had seen what he had seen. Harry felt himself turning red. There was an awkward silence between the two boys. Draco stepped next to Harry, and they both stared at the mirror. Though they couldn't see the scene now, it danced through their minds. Neither knew what to say, not even Draco.  
  
Finally, Draco turned his face. "It is the single most ridiculous thing I have ever seen," he said bitterly. He flung his Slytherin scarf over his shoulder. "This mirror is either broken or..." Draco sneezed.  
  
Harry looked at him. Even sick, the blond wizard managed to look perfect. His platinum hair was combed back neatly, though a few silvery wisps fell in his face. In the five years since they had met, Draco had grown to be even more handsome than before. His features had lost their childish overtone, leaving the face of a beautiful young man. During the five years, Harry had always hoped Draco might grow up to be not as pretty as before, but his wish had not come true. Draco was as handsome as he was rich. But...why was Harry thinking about Draco's beauty, anyway? Harry shook his head. He wondered if the mirror's reflection was affecting his mind.  
  
Draco sniffed now, frustrated by his cold. "Agh. I must have caught this cold from one of you Gryffindors," he commented.  
  
"And I suppose Slytherins don't get sick on their own," Harry replied distantly. His eyes moved over Draco's face, studying every smooth curve and snow-white feature.  
  
"No, they don't," Draco said matter-of-factly. He then sneezed again, then looked up at Harry. "What are you looking at?" he asked nastily.  
  
Harry looked away. "Nothing!"  
  
Draco glanced at the mirror. He knew how Harry felt. Looking at Harry now felt strange. He kept wondering what Harry may look like beneath the glasses Draco hated so much. Draco also wondered something even more outrageous; what it would feel like if they kissed. Perhaps a few minutes ago, Draco would have shuddered at the thought. But now he simply pondered it, his eyes glistening with wonder. Sixteen...they weren't children anymore, that was certain. And along with teen years came...  
  
"Gah!"  
  
Harry turned to Draco with wide eyes. "What's wrong with you?"  
  
Draco shook his head. "Nothing, nothing!" he said hastily, waving a hand. He was very nervous all of a sudden. "Let's get out of here, Potter! I don't want to see any more disgusting imagery!"  
  
"Neither do I," Harry agreed. "Let's get back before we're missed."  
  
"R-right."  
  
As they left, Harry wondered why Draco was so nervous all of a sudden. He was usually so calm and cold...well, then again, he was known to be a bit unstable at times. Harry had seen him lose his cool quite a few times in the past, especially when facing something he feared. But what was there to fear now? The mirror had shown them both something rather unnerving, but it was over now (thank goodness) and done with. What was Draco thinking that disturbed him so much?  
  
Harry got to the bottom of the stairs ahead of Draco. He turned and looked up at him. "Oh, hurry up, Malfoy," he said, a bit impatient with his rival.  
  
"Don't rush me, Potter!" Draco retorted. He continued down the steps, but tripped on his cloak. "Oh!"  
  
Before he could stop himself, Harry stepped forward. He caught the tall, slender wizard in his arms. He felt Draco's warm face on his neck, and saw Draco's turquoise and black scarf land against his red and gold scarf. Gryffindor and Slytherin....Harry wondered why they were always opposed. Did everyone in Slytherin have to be so...obnoxious? And why did it feel so good to have Draco's warm body against his own? Harry felt himself wanting to embrace the youth tighter, regardless of whether he complained. It took a bit of effort not to hold his rival closer.  
  
Draco felt his face turning red as he lay in Harry's arms. They'd never been this close before, not once. In fact, Draco had never been this close to anyone before. But it didn't feel bad, it felt...comforting, almost. Draco shuddered. What was he thinking? Why did he feel so strange? He hated Harry, he hated him as deeply as he could. So why did it feel so good to be in his arms now? Why? Draco's pale hand gripped the shoulder of Harry's cloak as he tried to force the thoughts from his mind. Yet, the image of himself kissing Harry would not be erased from his memory. Not only the thoughts, but his feelings. He wanted to lose himself in Harry's cloaked arms, to be held. Draco had never been so agonized by his own feelings before, it was horrible.  
  
"Are you well, Malfoy?" Harry asked curiously. His own voice was breathy and low. "You're shaking."  
  
"I..." Draco looked up at Harry. His platinum hair had fallen across his face, and he looked rather weary. He stared at Harry with surprise dancing in his eyes. Harry seemed genuinely concerned for him. Great, that was all he needed, another reason to see Harry in a different light. Besides this, Harry looked very handsome at that particular moment. His lanky black hair had fallen over his forehead and nearly into his eyes. His glasses were sliding dangerously low on the bridge of his nose, revealing his large emerald eyes. Draco took a deep breath, and noticed that Harry's cloak smelled like fresh snow. He shut his eyes, unable to tear himself away from the moment.  
  
"Malfoy? Malfoy!"  
  
Draco finally pulled away from Harry. "Shut up! I heard you the first time!" he snapped. "And yes, I'm perfectly fine!"  
  
Harry brushed past him in a huff. "Fine."  
  
They left the hall and were now outside in the courtyard. Harry trudged through the snow, as Draco tried his best not to get wet by it. The sun was rising fast, and soon everyone in the school would be awake.  
  
"...You aren't planning on telling anyone about this, are you?" Harry asked Draco.  
  
"Of course not!" Draco exclaimed. "As it is, I'm having trouble forgetting I ever saw it."  
  
"Having trouble?" Harry laughed a little. "I'd think you'd have dismissed it from your mind by now."  
  
"Have you?"  
  
Harry did not reply. The image still haunted him as well.  
  
"Exactly," Draco said triumphantly.  
  
They came to where they had to split up. Harry did not even stop, but Draco suddenly grabbed his sleeve. Shocked, he turned to the young man. Draco was struggling with himself, but for what reason? What did he want now?  
  
"Harry...." Draco began. He stopped himself, then attempted to start over. "Have you ever...." Draco sneezed. "I mean," he started over, "that mirror...Harry...have..."  
  
"What are you rambling about?" Harry asked in complete bewilderment. Draco was calling him by his first name again, but he wasn't up to something, like before. For once, Draco had the appearance of an awkward, shy child. He looked up at Harry with his cheeks red from blushing and his nose red from the cold. The snow swirled around him, almost the same shade as his hair and skin. His mouth opened to speak, but he couldn't find the right words. It was all very cute, but disturbing as well. Harry eyed him warily.  
  
"What I'm trying (so desperately) to say is...is..." Draco lost his nerve. His evil, angry look returned. "Is that I can't stand you, Potter!"  
  
With that, the temperamental blond ran off. He didn't even bother avoiding the deep snow. Harry stared after him in confusion. What in God's name had all that been about? Exactly what was on Draco's mind? His rivalry...or the kissing scene in the mirror?  
  
End of Part One 


	3. Chapter Two

Author's Notes: Hmm...not too shabby, I suppose. Am I writing Harry right? I get a little anxious writing for him, since he's supposed to be two years older than the last book. I really don't know what else to say...I suppose it's coming along okay. What do you guys think?  
*  
  
Part Two  
  
That night, Draco Malfoy could not sleep. He tossed; his small, bare feet kicking the sheets of his bed. He turned; golden hair falling in his face. First, it was too hot. So, he angrily pushed the covers off of his thin body. Then, it was too cold. He pulled the sheets around himself again. This process went on all night. Still, he could not sleep.  
  
Frustrated and confused, Draco buried his face in a pillow. He muttered to himself that he hated Harry Potter, and how much he wanted to beat Harry Potter, and how much humiliation he had been caused by Harry Potter. He hated how good Harry was, he hated the way his glasses slid down his straight nose, he hated the kindness in his large green eyes, and he especially hated HIM!  
  
Draco lifted his face from the pillow, gasping for breath. He exhaled in exasperation. If he hated Harry so much, then why was Harry all he could think about?  
  
Draco stared at his pillow. There were a million reasons why he could not accept his strange feelings for Harry. After all, they were rivals, and Draco had spent five years hating and tormenting him. Besides, though Harry was as powerful and probably as wealthy as him, his friends were anything but high-class. Harry was everything that Draco wasn't...he was a Gryffindor, for crying out loud! All these reasons were enough to force Draco into his hatred of Harry, but there was also another reason.  
  
The Malfoy family had always been known for their hatred of the Potters. Draco had been raised to be the way he was, and if he behaved otherwise, it would be unacceptable. Draco wouldn't even allow himself to think about his father's reaction to his befriending a Potter. It was too scary.  
  
After thinking about this, Draco lay down on his back. Stupid. His feelings were simply stupid. He wished that he had never seen that mirror. Perhaps these feelings were a spell, and would wear off. But what if the spell didn't wear off? Draco frowned deeply. If this 'spell' didn't wear off soon, he may lose control of himself and wind up being attracted to...  
  
Draco shook his head. No, that would never happen. He wouldn't let it happen. Ever.  
  
*  
  
"Harry? What's wrong?"  
  
By the next day, Ron had recovered from his flu. He and Harry were eating lunch together, but Harry was quiet and distant. Being in the cafeteria made him remember the other day all too well. He kept expecting to hear Draco shout his last name, come over to his table, and kiss him. The thought was scary in more ways than one.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
Harry looked up at his redheaded friend. "Hmm?"  
  
Ron pointed to some dessert on Harry's plate. "Are you going to eat those?"  
  
Harry smiled a little. "Here, you have them."  
  
"Thanks." Ron had not changed much in the five years either. He was taller, but basically the same. He now looked at Harry curiously. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You seem down today."  
  
Harry had always been able to talk to Ron about anything, but not this. This was something he could not discuss with anyone. So, he tried to smile bravely, and told Ron that he was fine.  
  
But he was not fine. That hated image still lingered in his mind, so clearly that he could nearly feel it. The words 'I can not be attracted to Draco Malfoy' kept running through his mind like a mantra, but had no effect on his thoughts. The image only grew more real, and was precariously balanced on the line between thought and fantasy. The more he thought about it, the worse it got. He was trapped in some twisted, bizarre daydream and couldn't escape no matter how hard he tried. Soon, he could almost feel Draco's thin, soft lips against his own...and how it felt to have the youth in his arms...  
  
"Potter!"  
  
Harry nearly choked on the water he was drinking.  
  
"What do you want?" Ron asked nastily.  
  
Draco was standing before them, gazing down at Harry with his usual superior look. "Potter. Don't look so shocked, I was only passing by," he said evilly. A rather insane grin spread over his face. "Are you blushing? I wonder whatever for? Ha, ha, ha!"  
  
Draco left cackling. Harry stared after him. Draco seemed to have recovered from seeing the image in the mirror. He was back to his old, evil self, much to Harry's displeasure. In fact, he was even using yesterday against Harry! The nerve of him...  
  
"What was he babbling about?" Ron asked. "Why are you blushing?"  
  
"...I caught his cold, that's all," Harry lied. "Being around Malfoy always causes something bad to happen, right?"  
  
Ron nodded. "Right."  
  
Meanwhile, Draco was rushing through the halls of Hogwarts. He was not fine. He could still feel the effects of the 'spell'. Desperate for help, he hurried to the office of Professor Snape. Slightly hesitant, he knocked a little. Within moments, the door was flung open by the raven-like professor. Draco was his star student, but still became slightly apprehensive when going to Snape.  
  
"Draco Malfoy?" Snape asked. "What is it?"  
  
"I...I need help with something," Draco said uncomfortably. "Sorry to disturb your lunch, sir."  
  
Snape brought Draco into his office without a word. Draco was too nervous to sit down. He needed to break the spell of the mirror, but if Snape found out about the spell, he would know Draco had been snooping around. Nevertheless, Draco knew that he had to do something, or he would go crazy.  
  
"Professor Snape...I think I have a powerful spell on me," Draco said slowly. "Do you know of...a mirror that is kept in an attic some ways west of here?"  
  
Snape looked at him, his eyes stern. "Yes..." he replied. "I suppose you found it, did you?"  
  
Draco bowed his head. "I did."  
  
Snape stood up. "...That mirror is the Mirror of Adversities," he said. "It shows the inverse of reality."  
  
"Come again?"  
  
"Whatever the mirror showed you is the opposite of your reality," Snape explained. "Why do you think that it cast a spell on you?"  
  
"Well..." Draco didn't know what to say. He thought fast to make up a lie. "I've been thinking a lot about the scene it showed me, and I have no idea why. I don't normally think about such things at all. Are you certain I'm not enchanted in some way?"  
  
"I'm certain," Snape replied. "Exactly what did the mirror show you, Draco?"  
  
"I-I'd rather not...s-say...if you don't mind, sir. It was...quite horrible..."  
  
"Are you certain it was so horrible?" Snape asked. He turned to his window and stared out at the white sky. "They do say that the Mirror of Adversities has a tendency to show an extreme opposite of reality, yet one that could be so. Is what you saw possible of becoming reality?"  
  
"No!" Draco realized that he had yelled. "I mean...no, it could never be. It's too...ridiculous."  
  
"Then...why do you keep thinking about it as if you are enchanted?"  
  
Draco's face fell for a moment. He was surprised when Snape lifted his face up by the chin gently. Snape's face was stern, as always, but his eyes were not so cold.  
  
"You know your place in this world, Draco Malfoy," he told him, "and you know what you must do to keep it. Don't let an intriguing image from a magic mirror cloud your judgment of reality. Understand?"  
  
"Yes sir..."  
  
Snape released his face. "Fine. Then, go. And remember the holiday homework you have."  
  
"Yes...yes sir..." Draco said, disappointed. He left the office with dragging feet. A spell...there had been no spell. The only reason he kept thinking of Harry was...he didn't even know what it was. Whatever it was...it seemed to be cureless.  
  
* "Ron...have you ever liked someone that you weren't supposed to before?"  
  
"No. Why?"  
  
As they played a game of wizards' chess, Harry decided to ask Ron about the matter. Of course, he wouldn't tell him about his feelings for Draco, but he would ask for advice the best he could.  
  
"I was just thinking," Harry said vaguely. "Do you think people become attracted to each other...because of looks? Is it possible to love and hate someone simultaneously?"  
  
"I don't know." Ron's mind turned to a certain girl that he and Harry had known for five years. "I suppose it is possible, to start out a tad hostile and end up in love." Ron's eyes grew distant, and he found himself thinking and talking about Hermione. "I mean, why do people insult each other, anyway? It's because something about the other person bothers them, right? Well, if you didn't care at all for this other person, you wouldn't bother insulting them, would you? You insult them because...deep down maybe you wish they were more like you, or that they were more agreeable towards you. So, yes, I suppose quarreling kids can grow up to be lovers."  
  
Harry drew a breath at the word 'lovers'. Ron's advice had only served to worsen the matter. It also made sense. Harry thought back to his first meeting with Draco. His beautiful, taller (back then) rival had started out nice enough. It was only after Harry had refused to join him and his snotty friends that Draco had become so vile. Looking back on it, Harry wondered if Draco had just been acting out of hurt feelings. Then again, Draco didn't seem to have any feelings.  
  
"Checkmate!" Ron suddenly declared cheerfully. "You're playing shabbily today, Harry."  
  
"I have a lot on my mind."  
  
Then, an annoyingly familiar voice spoke up from behind Harry. "Well, well, well..."  
  
Harry could tell from the hostile look on Ron's face that it was Draco. He didn't turn around. He had been seeing too much of Draco's face lately.  
  
But Draco sat down on a chair beside Harry and Ron, his back facing Ron. He grinned evilly at Harry, his handsome face looking quite demonic. He glanced at the chess board. "So, I see you can't even beat this dunce anymore," he observed. He turned his gleaming blue eyes on Harry's face. "Or are you distracted by some nagging matter? Hm?"  
  
"Malfoy, I'm really not in the mood," Harry said wearily. He refused to look at Draco's face, afraid his strange feelings would surface.  
  
"Neither of us are," Ron added. "Would you be so kind as to shove off, Malfoy?"  
  
Draco ignored him. He leaned his face close to Harry's. "It wasn't a spell," he whispered in his ear.  
  
Harry's eyes widened. Before he could ask Draco to repeat his words, Draco had left. He looked down at the chess board. Not a spell? Then...why was he so infatuated with his rival all of a sudden? Unless...it was that little four letter word....Harry shook his head. No, no, that couldn't be it! There had to be some reason, some mistake, something that had caused him to become so intrigued! And whatever it was, it was not bothering Malfoy. That meant that whatever it was...Draco had to have the solution.  
  
End Part Two 


	4. Chapter Three

Author's Notes: How is this gonna end? Even I don't know at this point...hm...I guess I'll just write it as it comes to me. Draco's so cute though, isn't he? Okay, so I admit to being biased (I always love the bratty characters) but he is very cute. Now let me get back to writing before Harry kills me for that comment :)  
*  
  
Part Three  
  
"Malfoy!"  
  
Later that evening, Harry finally got a chance to confront his rival. Draco was alone in the courtyard, wandering by the snow. He turned and glanced over at Harry, who was approaching him quickly. He crossed his arms and rid his face of his sorrow, putting on his haughty expression.  
  
"What do you want, Potter?" he asked nastily.  
  
"How did you rid yourself of that spell?" Harry demanded to know. "You haven't thought twice about the mirror, have you? You've been just fine, while I can't shake the image from my head! It must be a spell!"  
  
"Even if it were," Draco smirked evilly, "why would I help you get rid of it?"  
  
"Tell me!" Harry stepped close to Draco, his face stern. "Tell me, Malfoy."  
  
"Hmph. I did tell you!" Draco replied. He stepped up to Harry, so close that he could feel the warmth of his body. The rivalry was no longer annoying, it seemed rather erotic. He grinned up at Harry. "It was not a spell, Harry. These feelings are our own."  
  
"Our own, you say?" Harry asked. Realization dawned on his face. "So, you have been thinking about it!"  
  
Draco's jaw fell. "Ah...ah..." he stammered. He crossed his arms haughtily and turned his face. "So what if I have? At least I don't let it show."  
  
"Malfoy, we've got to do something," Harry said worriedly. "We can't go on like this! It's utterly ridiculous! I don't love you!"  
  
Draco looked at him. "Love?" he asked. "Who ever said anything about love? This can't be love! This is...some strange desire to...experiment in...adult matters. The lure of forbidden love and all that. You're the one who called it 'love'."  
  
Harry turned red. "So I did," he murmured. He shook his head and waved a hand. "In any case, we must do something! We have to confront this and be done with it!"  
  
"I quite agree."  
  
"Right!" Harry paused. "Any ideas of how to do so?"  
  
"...Well...I do have one," Draco said quietly. His head was bowed, and his golden hair fell over his eyes. He frowned slightly.  
  
"Pray tell, Malfoy!"  
  
Draco turned his face and looked at Harry. "Well..." He reached up and pulled Harry's glasses off slowly. His cold, thin fingers brushed over the bridge of the Gryffindor student's nose gently. His cold breath escaped his thin lips, grazing Harry's face. His light eyes turned to Harry's. "The only way we can decide what we want...is to know how both sides feel," he said slowly. He brought his face up to Harry's. They could almost feel each other's lips. "We already know how it feels to be rivals...now all we need to know...is how it feels to be..."  
  
Draco leaned his face forward, and his smooth lips met with Harry's. Harry's eyes widened. He went to pull away, but Draco's hand went into his hair, and propelled his face closer. Draco pressed his lips to Harry's for a few moments, then wrapped his mouth around the other wizard's. In true Malfoy fashion, he let his tongue explore Harry's mouth in a bold, naughty kiss. Harry kissed him back, a little shyly. He wanted to pull away, but it felt so good. He cursed Draco in his mind as he took the young wizard into his arms. What would his friends think if they knew this? How could he ever look them in the face again? How could he ever look himself in the face again? He had to pull away. Now.  
  
Finally, Harry turned his face from Draco's mouth. He was breathing heavily, and his face had turned red. Draco glanced at him. Harry knew he should push him away, but he only embraced his enemy tightly. Draco's eyes widened as he was held against Harry's chest. He blushed.  
  
"Malfoy..." was all Harry could say. His face held an agonized look. He shut his eyes tightly. "Why you? Why did it have to be you? This is...wrong."  
  
"...Oh, come off it, Potter," Draco retorted. "Do you think I enjoy being attracted to you? This is horribly bad luck, isn't it?"  
  
"It is..." Harry put his face in Draco's Slytherin scarf. He noticed that Draco smelled of cologne and potions. "Why?" came his muffled voice. "Why this? It isn't fair."  
  
"Life isn't fair, Harry." Draco shut his eyes, also looking quite agonized. "I can't believe this..."  
  
There was a moment of silence. Harry released Draco, who pulled away quickly. He handed Harry his glasses, then stepped away from Harry, hugging himself like a frightened child. As the seriousness of his feelings sank in, Draco began to feel trapped and helpless.  
  
"So...I suppose we both enjoyed that, didn't we?" Harry asked as he slid on his glasses. "Perhaps now that we got it over with, we'll never think about it again."  
  
Draco shut his eyes. He knew that he would think about it again. Being near his sworn enemy, kissing him, being held in his arms, the experience was not something Draco would forget. He turned his back on Harry and muttered something.  
  
"What was that?" Harry asked.  
  
"WEAK!" Draco yelled loudly. He shook his head. "Weak! We're too weak! This never should have happened, you never should have let it! I hate you!" Draco held his head in his hands. "I can't STAND you, Potter!"  
  
"Draco, what on earth..." Harry put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "What's the matter?"  
  
Draco pulled away. "Don't touch me!" he shouted. He backed away from Harry, his face ready to crumble. "Don't ever come near me again! Ever! We had our little experiment, now it's over! It's over!"  
  
Harry nodded. "I agree. It is over."  
  
Draco couldn't help but be disappointed that Harry didn't argue with him. However, he knew it was for the best. "Fine," he said. "So be it. Promise me you'll never think about it again!"  
  
"I promise."  
  
Draco nodded. "You...you'd better not!" he warned. However, his bottom lip quivered slightly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than entertain pathetic Gryffindors! Good day, Potter!"  
  
Draco stormed off. Harry stared after him, subconsciously running a finger over his lips. He regretted ending their 'experiment' so soon, especially since he had enjoyed it so much. But rivalry was rivalry. No matter how thin the line between love and hate was, there was still a line. Yes, it was better this way. However...  
  
Harry stared up at the white December sky. He wondered if he would be able to keep his promise to Draco or not. A part of him began to hope that perhaps one day...Draco would come to him and forget the promise. Of course, this wish would have to be kept secret. But you never know. After all, Harry had learned long ago that nothing is truly impossible, especially in this crazy, exciting realm of magic and fantasy.  
  
The End 


End file.
